The Unattractive Reaction

Been on four dates with Vegas Victor. What a great guy. Very attentive, generous, thoughtful, conversational... I really have no complaints. Except that I am not attracted to him. And I truly wish I was. We connect so well intellectually, spiritually, and emotionally. Just not physically. Can a budding relationship survive this? Does attraction grow over time?

On our fourth date, I needed to tell Victor that it was becoming clear my attraction for him was not growing, and that I saw him more as a close friend than anything else. He was making it clear he had romantic feelings for me, so I tried my best to bring this up delicately and with class. I was anticipating it to be somewhat awkward because it always is when you have to deliver a hard message... but I was NOT expecting the button-eye-popping kind of awkward.

Ann = "Victor, I have something hard to discuss with you, but it's important so I am going to try to get it out. It's become quite clear to me that I think of you more as a close friend than a romantic partner."

Victor = "Is it an attraction thing?"

Ann (Yes he asked that. I nearly vomitted) = "Well I feel like it's rude to say attraction is a problem. I would say that I am more attracted to you as a friend."

Victor, with hands framing around his face like a camera = "Is it my face??"

Ann (OHMYGOD did he just ask me that?!?!) = "No, we are not going there Victor."

Victor = "So are you saying there is no chance, now or ever in the future? You are 100% sure you will never want more than friendship with me, ever?"

Ann = "Umm... well Victor all I can say is how I am feeling right now. And right now I only feel for you as a friend."

Victor = "Well what's your definition of friendship?"

Ann = "I will have to really think that over."

As you can see, it didn't go well. I wasn't prepared for the questions. And we aren't talking at this point. Pretty crappy ending to what I thought was a very cool connection. Maybe I didn't handle it well?? Maybe time will smooth things over?? Ugh. I have pulled some of my yarn hair out over this one...

One Size Does Not Fit All

If a man's profile says he is 6'3", does that mean that once when he was wearing shoes and had his hair spiked up a bit he was measured at a friends house with non standardized devices to be somewhere in the proximation of a 6 footer? Sorry Chris... it was fun grabbing a beer with you the other night but if you exaggerate about your height it does not bode well either for your inteligence or your integrity. Being a bit harsh? Too 'raggedy' an edge on this topic? Sorry. Being a tall woman means being rejected a lot in the dating world because of your height. I am lashing out.

Please be accurate gentlemen with at least the length of your body's stature... within a plus-or-minus one inch deviation. That's all I ask.

For the record, I'm not height-prejudice. I have definitely dated men shorter than me. Stop laughing. Most of the world is shorter than me (particularly among the Central Americans). And I have had awesome loving relationships with shorter men. The caveat being that they like me and my height.

Dated Joey in high school and early college. He was a whopping 5'6". There was no hiding the height difference. Joey was very thick and muscular so I used to joke that our surface area was actually the same (if that perplexes you please google 'surface area' - it's a geometric joke). I dated another guy in recent years named Hayden who was 5'10". He loved my height and always asked me to wear heals, then paraded me around like I was his model. He was proud of it. And both men made me feel very feminine, and I like to think I helped them feel masculine.

The date with Chris was fine other than the fact that the height issue did seem to be... well... an issue. One size does not fill all. Next please.

Saggy Nick, Shallow Ann

On impulse, I violated one of my own rules about not dating someone older than my Big Brother, and met Nick for a drink. Seems as though when people email me about Scrabble (I mention it in my profile because I can beat almost anyone at it and that's... well... important for people to know, right??) it opens a soft place in my heart and I get irrational. Anyway, the two hour date went fine. We actually had quite a bit in common, including places we've lived, our careers, passion for volleyball, etc. The conversation flowed easily, was balanced, and there were lots of laughs.

So this is why I hate myself:

1. He looks old, and I have a problem with it.

Who am I to judge a book by its cover? But alas... Nick is 38 and looks it. Has slightly weathered skin (aka, "saggy"), pronounced smile lines, graying hair, and wore stone washed jeans. Truthfully not a bad looking guy for nearly being 40, and a little fashion help would go a long way. But as I sat across from him, my immature ego was literally saying I am waaaaaay too young for him. My smile lines only show up when I'm really tired! I pull out the few grays hairs that I can find! And though my Raggedy Fashion could use some polishing of it's own, I certainly know enough not to role my jeans anymore. Yes I am resisting "looking" older, and walking arm in arm with a saggy 38 year old won't help my facade. Damn Ann. Don't have to worry about drowning in this pool of shallowness.

2. He asked me out on a second date, and I said "Yes".

To make matters worse, I didn't have the courage to say to him at the end of our pleasant date that I wasn't interested in him romantically. I cowarded out, and sheepishly said I would join him in a movie sometime soon. Maybe I am hoping once I venture out on date #2, that magically he will look younger and more appetizing. Or that I will recover from my obvious ageism and give a good guy a chance.

I think this is one of those things men hate about women. Sorry gentlemen. I lamed out.

Vegas Victor

It's been a quiet few weeks on the online dating front. And by quiet I mean boring. Definitely my busy schedule's fault, though I suppose some ebbs and flows in your enthusiasm for meeting people in cyberspace are only natural. Because of either fatigue or "growing wise", I have been more critical about the selections Match sends me, and just wasn't feeling the inspiration to put myself out there. That's not the winning attitude of a dating sales funnel manager! Snap out of it Raggedy Ann, before your yarn hair falls out and you are discarded as last year's toy. (Correction - last generation's toy).

So like I said - it had been a quiet... until last night. I had a high school relapse, and entertained a four hour phone conversation that put me to sleep just a smidge before sunrise. Enter Victor. On paper - or computer screen - Victor's profile is a lot like mine. Athlete, psychology and biology major, buddhist, unsure about wanting kids, and he's very tall. The only drawback I saw was that he lived in Vegas, but several fascinating emails convinced me it was worth getting to know him over the distance. And thankfully he hates Vegas. Job brought him there but he doesn't plan on staying. So any worries of a closet-substance-abusing-gambling-addict are at bay. For now.

The four hour conversation was absolutely FASCINATING. While there definitely was a slight professorial feel to it (he did most of the talking) - the topics were right up my alley. Health, energy, immune system, intuition, psychology, nutrition, exercise, philosophy. Victor is very educated and masterfully articulate. Hearing him talk about subjects that I have dedicated pieces of my life to was... well... invigorating. It was like taking a deep breath and exhaling in to total relaxation. To put it in a hippy California kinda way, it felt like we were on the same vibe.

Whether or not this ever amounts to anything more than this one half-a-work-day phone call, Victor was a sweet reminder of what it feels like to truly connect with another person. Remotely. Do I sound stoned? Maybe I am. I'd like to roll the dice on this one and see what fortune brings.

Avoid First Dates When Hung Over

Matt is a 6'3" lawyer. Very witty writing voice, comes from a fantastic Italian family, lives nearby… I am excited for this date. Apparently not excited enough to push away those final few tequila shots the night before though. Nope, like a college freshmen I get plastered Saturday night. Our date is Sunday at 2pm. When I wake up Sunday I am still mostly drunk, and with impaired judgment feel optimistic I can fly through this date with my best charm.

Not quite.

Strike one:
Aside from at least twice losing my train of thought mid-story, I also unintentionally insult him. “Yeah, I tend to get along better with people who weren’t born and raised in California”, I tell him. “Oh, why is that?” he asks. “I don’t mean to generalize and there certainly are exceptions to the rule, but California seems to be a bit more hedonistic. It’s an active and healthy lifestyle, which I love, but I don’t always find people with a lot of discipline and family values. So… where did you say you grew up again?” You know the answer. Cali-all-the-way-baby. Ouch.

Strike two:
We are talking about the movies nominated for the Academy Awards. He hasn’t seen “Doubt” yet and I proceed to tell him all about it. At which point he says, “Guess I don’t need to see that one any more”. Normally I may have caught on to something like that. Don’t they have a name for people who spoil movies for others? Yes they do – lame ass. That was me. The discussion about “Doubt” was an interesting and appropriate bridge in to religion. His profile says he is Catholic (which I didn’t hold against him). Once we both opened up about our perspectives on religion though, I would say he was Catholic and is now much more liberal. Thank God.

The final pitch…
Matt thankfully was determined to make it a good date. After our coffee, we waltz over to a store nearby, wandering around to find him a bottle of wine for a work party he’s attending later. On the walk he asks, “Are you sure you’re only 6’1”?” Ugh. Yes world, that is my height totally barefoot. He asks if I have ever dated someone shorter than me. Of course I have. I can’t get a feel as to whether this is a BIG GLARING FLASHING RED LIGHT hint that he isn’t interested, or if it was a fair question.

A week later, we are setting up a second lunch date. So for now, it looks as though I have avoided the strike out. Hope to redeem myself and make a better impression – he definitely made a positive impression on me. And I will stitch myself a mental note that this Raggedy Ann should never again show up hung-over for a first date. (Why didn’t my Mother ever teach me that?!)

Edward

Unfortunately this is not the Vampire Edward from the “Twilight” series. However, my experience with Edward was punctured with awkward moments.

1. Setting up the “date”.
It took us a baker’s dozen in text message to cook up the meeting specifics. And they weren’t clever or witty or flirtatious text messages. An odd contradiction to the meta-communication on location was that there was also an assertive tone in his text messages. A decisive man is not necessarily a bad thing! In fact I was thinking an alpha male would be a welcome relief. Especially if he was also a Vampire or Werewolf. We finally decided on a coffee shop. Or maybe he made that decision. He definitely decided upon the time, and then he texted me 60 minutes beforehand to make it even earlier. Weird.

2. The greeting.

He expected a hug. Go figure… that’s three for three. What I most liked about this hug was that Edward was clearly 4 to 6 inches taller than me so he decisively put his arms over mine. I would describe Edward as ‘skinny fat’, not rock hard like the Twilight Edward. Fortunately this Edward was warm blooded and never tried to bite me (that I know of).

3. The drink order.

After the brief introduction, he offered to go stand in the long line to get us drinks and suggested I stay to reserve our table. Very thoughtful! However it paused our date right after it started for about 10 minutes. Our table was close to the bathroom, so at least I was entertained by the line of patrons waiting to get in and bumping accidentally in to my knees. My bad.

4. The conversation domination.

It was quickly apparent to me that Edward was more than a professional sales man. Sales was in his blood! He could chat about anything and everything, and he did. My role was mainly to practice my active listening and affirmative nodding. I am good at that. Wonder if he noticed.

5. The real question.

Like a good salesman, he did also throw a few questions my way. The show-stopper was when he asked, “with everything that you do in your life, do you even have time for a boyfriend?” My reply was “well I need something to do now that I’ve finished the Sex in the City series.” Actually, my response was that having a boyfriend is easy for my lifestyle. The majority of the last decade of my life I have had a boyfriend, on top of keeping a full time job and being a competitive athlete. Dating and getting to know people is what seems to be time and energy consuming. Dating and not being exclusive feels like a part time job. He totally understood.

6. The good-bye.

The flowing conversation ended gracefully and we walked to our cars together. We agreed to stay in touch though I don’t think it was full-hearted by either of us. He made some comment about getting a friend to come compete with me in some games… the last awkward moment was my response where I tried to sound interested in that idea. Just never been talented at deception.

Edward was a fine gentlemen. However I think I will stick with the fictional character and let this Edward find a more willing victim.

The Brent Dates

(Yes, another A- date rating). Brent was great on our initial Match.com emails, and even impressed me in setting up our first date. Yes there is a sad commentary about me being delightfully surprised when a guy does what he says he’ll do… like, say, call you when he says, show up on time, follow-up with you afterward… but I digress. I am not a jaded Raggedy Ann. Yet.

We met at 6pm to grab a drink after work. As I was walking up to meet him he said, “Wow you definitely stand out in a crowd.” From the tone in his voice, I couldn’t tell in the least if that was a compliment or his poorly disguised shock that I am a tall woman. No, I’m not super-Shaq-sized, but tall men typically aren’t used to looking at a girl eye-to-eye. Takes them a while to optically adjust. Or that’s the story I’m sticking to.

Thankfully I was prepared for the up-front hug - not that I feel any better about it. Body to body contact with a stranger must be a California thing. I had friends for years in New England and I’m confident I never even shook their hands. Hi-fives, maybe. (Kidding!) Brent was definitely taller than me, a handsome face in a Colorado-cute-way, and pretty skinny. We sat and ordered beers. Three hours and an order of nachos later (he definitely won points in my book that he liked nachos!), we both were impressed at how quickly time had gone by. What’s that age-old saying about ‘time’ and ‘having fun’…?

Was I having fun? We talked volleyball, which he dabbles in. We talked mountain biking, which I’ve dabbled in. We talked Colorado, California, owning houses, the blessings of family… it went on and on quite easily. Not a barrel-of-laughs type of fun, but interesting-conversation fun. I left not sure if there was a romantic chemistry between us, but definitely feeling like I had experienced a great conversation with a good guy. We did hug goodbye, and I was happy when he followed up with a text the next day.

We’ve been on a second date. Apparently still not sure enough about each other to actually order food, so this one again was just meeting for drinks. The conversation got a little deeper – about religion. It was highly entertaining, as we both have very strong educated opinions on the matter, and the two hours moved just as quickly as the first date. About the not eating thing… maybe part of his strategy is to make sure I am slightly calorie deprived so I’m not thinking clearly and easier to impress. Or maybe he’s a total cheapskate. My intuition thinks neither though. I put my bets on the fact that we are slowly feeling each other out. Slow and steady. It’s a turtle race.

Big Mack

My first Match.com coffee date was with Mack. Mack is 34 years old, stands a handsome 6’4” (yeehaw!), and works as a producer and struggling actor. Of course the struggling actor part I didn’t hear about until late into our coffee date. Overall, a very nice two hour conversation that went nowhere because we ultimately both concluded that although we had a great time chatting, we live too far apart. Shit, we could have figured that out before even emailing each other. Maybe that was a back-pocket excuse for a lack of instantaneous heart melt. I would happily see him again, the next time he comes down to my turf. Ho-hum. This Raggedy Ann doesn’t have time for raggedy tires quite yet.

Awkward moments:

1. The first greeting.
   I met him at his car. Knew it was him because there was a bike on the roof, and I recognized him from his profile picture. The odd thing about online dating is you actually know someone more than you should because of what they reveal in their profile and your email conversations. So I think Mack might have been anticipating a hug. Apparently I don’t hug strangers, because I dodged that bullet and felt weird immediately.



2. Opening the door.
   We headed to the coffee shop’s door and there it was… that awkward moment where I reached for the door to let myself in, and he might have tried to open the door for me to be chivalrous… but I blew it. Like a woman on a mission I charged right in. Maybe I wasn’t thinking clearly because of the hug-dodging.



3. Paying for coffee.
   To make any attempt by him of being chivalrous worse… I accidentally ended up buying our coffees (teas, actually, but who cares). It really was an accident. I gave the coffee shop my frequent buyer discount card, and at that point Mark thanked me – like he assumed I had paid. So then I did give the cashier cash, it registered with Mark that I hadn’t paid yet, and I tried to mumble something about he paid for gas so I would happily pay for coffee. Ugh. I definitely didn’t mind paying but it wasn’t smooth, as you can tell.



4. Saying goodbye.
   All in all I thought we had an interesting and engaging two hour conversation. We talked a ton about our work and active lifestyles. So much, in fact, that it occurred to both of us that neither of us have that much free time, and definitely not enough free time to drive back and forth for 30 miles on the 405. We left it as a reciprocating, “if you’re ever around my town again, look me up.” And then there was awkward hug moment #2. This time I caved in and happily laid one on him. It was the uncomfortable, one-arm-over one-arm-under hug. I hate those.

Overall, I thought Mack was great, and I am more than relieved that my first Match.com date was with an obviously nice guy. Hope I can find more of those, and maybe some that live closer.

The Sales Funnel

Sales 101 = there is the marketplace where you find leads, identify interested prospects, and hopefully convert them in to sales. In this online dating scenario Match.com is the marketplace (with 15+ million users), the faces and profiles you come across are the leads, the prospects are people who initiate or respond to contact with you, and a “sale” is the date. Hell - I suppose a relationship is a loyal customer.

It’s not just the straight-up numbers you need to consider. It’s the conversion rates.

Marketplace to leads:
How many profiles come across my plate? The way Match is setup, five new profiles are sent to you each day. Signed up for 3 months, so that’s 450 leads pushed at me. Not to mention any extra profiles I view…. So to make this a round number and reflect the reality of my online usage, let’s say in 3 months I will come across 1,000 leads. Calculate 15 million by 1,000… that makes this conversion rate far less than 1%.

Leads to prospects:
Here’s the acid test. Am I being forward and winking or emailing? Am I responding to those who give me attention, or am I being critical and stingy? It’s too early to calculate a true conversion, but I would guesstimate out of 1,000 leads, we may convert 5% into prospects. That would be 50 people in 3 months that we communicate with.

Prospects to sales:
If magic happens and 50 interesting prospects fall across my Raggedy lap in the next 3 months, how many will turn in to a date? I would like to set a goal of 10. Ten dates in 3 months.

As would any good sales manager, I will monitor my numbers and conversions rates to see if anything needs tweaking along the way. Here’s to hoping at least one of those 10 dates turns into a loyal customer.

Wrinkled Winkers

I’m signed up. Built my profile. Set my dream date criteria. And I’ve even winked at a dozen dudes already. Who is winking at me? The Wrinkled Winkers.

I’d hate to admit I have ageism, but the rule-of-thumb I am sticking with is that the guy I date can’t be older than my Big Brother (who is 36). It just doesn’t seem right that I’d date someone who potentially was my Bro’s peer, or worse yet, his senior. My Big Brother is my buffer… as in I can’t be getting too old because my Brother is that much older. Always. Maybe this is my way of protecting myself against my own aging. Denying it, even.

Don’t get me wrong. So far in my 30 years I have loved each year of my life more than the last. But sorry gentlemen, I am old enough to know that if you’re over 36 I am not mature enough to entertain dating you. This chick wants a rooster closer to my genre.

Disclaimer about "Raggedy Ann"

Don’t want you thinking I am a homely girl, or red head, or have stitches coming out of my seams or any other doll-like characteristics. Truth be told I am all natural, slender, very tall, quite active brunette… and in most places outside of Southern California I dare say I've been regarded as a pretty lady. But I find myself in the state of Californ-I-A, in a state of befuddlement. To compete with the bountiful beauty and mayhem of modification I figured I’d make this a numbers game. The more guys I can meet through online dating, the more likely I will find one who sees through the haze of hydrogen peroxide and into my black button eyes. (And if I find a true love and his name is Andy I am going to laugh my metaphorical ass off).